


It was a dark & stormy night.

by Noir_Dix



Series: Dix's Ghost Stories [4]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: & eventual vanilla sex, Bloodplay, Dubious Dix, F/M, Fingering, Knifeplay, Other, Slighted Cardinal, Spanking, You're Welcome, big vamp angle, general meanness & angst, miniature pillow violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noir_Dix/pseuds/Noir_Dix
Summary: As our Fearless Leader has been known to say, "Okey-dokey..."And, away we go.This story is weird. I wrote it up in a frenzy after the Xmas tale, & abandoned it after the flashback w/ Mary.Copia was just insufferable, & I didn't quite like where Dix was going, either.I happened upon it again, recently, & enjoyed Copia still being a world-class asshole entirely too much...So, I tried to re-work bits, & tacked on an ending.And, probably made it weirder.Rejoice.





	1. Can you hear the thunder?

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know me, but:  
> https://the-pomegranate-cassock.tumblr.com

~~~~It was the middle of the night, when Dix was awakened by the crashing thunderstorm.

She undertook a full-body stretch underneath the Cardinal's new crimson sheets.

The room was inky black. A small fire struggled bravely in the gas fireplace.

The heavy drapes, (also crimson) had been pulled, & the windows that let out into the small garden courtyard were thrown open.

The Cardinal had dragged one of the chairs that usually sat in front of the fireplace over. His usually slicked-down hair was messy. He held a near-empty rocks glass, & wore an ivory silk kimono, embroidered throughout with blood-red bats.

She clutched the top sheet to her chest at a particularly loud crash of thunder. The room went blinding white for a moment, & the light caught eerily on his pale eye.

"Can you hear the thunder?" he crowed, grinning at her mirthlessly.

His black makeup was shiny; he'd had it on for too long.

Or... maybe it was the humidity.

"Power's out." he said, frowning at his glass.

Dix looked for & retrieved his latest odd T-shirt, which read: "Free Moustache Rides" & had an accompanying stick woman, (with boobs) riding a large moustache.

She wondered where _her_ kimono had gotten off to... It was the exact match to his, only the colors were inverted, (white washed her out dreadfully).

Come to think of it, where had her trunk gotten to?

"Come sit with me..." he interrupted her thought, "& bring the bottle."

She glared at his profile.

She then retrieved her charcoal gray cotton panties, that had somehow ended up on the bedside table's lampshade.

Hardly anyone in the church knew of her existence, so... the current, _pervasive_ rumor in the laundry was that the Cardinal wore ladies' bikini panties.

Which, he knew about, & was greatly amused by.

She thought briefly of when the Third had very nearly brought the unholy church down around all of their ears, when he had hosted a drunken "Rocky Horror" party.

_That_ had been something to see.

Terzo also had a kimono, she suddenly remembered. It was a beautiful thing, all shot through with purple & gold... He had strutted around in the full costume, down to the white jade counterweights on the sash.

Cardi, well... Cardi hadn't even bothered to tie his on, this evening.

She picked up the bottle that stood alone at the corner of the huge mahogany desk on her way.

It was gin. It was Swedish gin. It was maraschino-cherry red.

So, he was drinking straight gin?

She jumped at yet another massive crash as she approached him.

"I don't like lightning." she grumbled, as she handed him the bottle.

She didn't like rain in general, since she had been trapped out in the stocks during a deluge. That was the second day. By the third day, she had been spat upon, groped by nearly every town elder, pelted with refuse, & had finally collapsed, when the unholy father happened upon her.

"How do you do? My, such a pretty little thing... What on earth are you doing out here?"

He poured half a glass, & handed it to her, before setting the bottle down on the floor.

The glass still held a few sad ice cubes, one of which he had snitched, & was chomping away on.

He had a slight bulge, & she caught him pushing the silk to the side as he pulled her onto his lap.

He nuzzled her neck, & started nibbling at her shoulder as she sipped the pungent liquor. She wiggled against him until he was hard & flush against her backside.

His hand danced along her thin waistband, before settling tantalizingly between her legs.

"Tell me, succubus-" he rasped, moustache tickling the very edge of her ear...

Uh-oh.

She stiffened at his tone; one of quiet, patient menace.

"When you fucked Mary-"

"Who said anything about fucking Mary?!" she asked, voice rising ~~guiltily~~ defensively.

He ignored her, pressing his long middle finger hard against her hole. Her body betrayed her, dampening her cotton crotch. She pressed herself back as far as she could against him. He snaked his other hand up under the shirt & started fingering a taut nipple.

She gasped when he nipped her earlobe.


	2. You cannot hide in the darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cardi's mood does not improve.

"Get a hold of yourself, woman." he growled, before contradicting himself by sliding his hand into her panties.

She whimpered, not liking where this was going... & yet, powerless to stop it.

"Did he cum inside you, my little one?" he asked, voice deceptively gentle. "Did he pump you full of his filth?"

She winced.

He toyed with her clit for a moment, before moving back to sink that middle finger inside her.

He was mid-knuckle deep, so far. His cock was rock hard & sitting perfectly against the crack of her ass.

"I don't like this game." she moaned.

"Oh, it's no game, my _beloved._ " he practically spat the endearment, ruining it with venom.

She sighed to herself, grabbing at his thighs as he finished sinking his finger.

When he allowed himself to get like this, he was impossible.

"Does he call you his _Mistress,_ now?" he demanded to know, pistoning his finger & starting to add the index digit.

As if she was going to answer _that._ Mary was even more contrary dead than he had been half-dead.

(But... he had. He had also taken to calling her "Mama" lately, which bugged the hell out of her.)

His blood had been... acrid. She shuddered.

"Where did you bite him?" he hissed, fingers pounding her ruthlessly. She was a wet mess. "Was it his stringy white thigh? Did you happen to slip, & end up sucking his filthy dick?"

He was in a _fine_ mood, this night. She was going to have to keep the gin away from him, apparently.

If that was what had set him off.

She'd been anticipating a small war over Mary... but, he was outdoing himself.

She began to feel the tension building. He was going to make her come.

Damn him.

He kinked his fingers at the opportune moment, & she came undone with a ragged cry.

"You're one to talk about filth, _plague bringer."_ she managed to gasp, before collapsing bonelessly against him.

It was the wrong thing to say.

He snorted, pulling his hand away. He shoved her off of him, & she stumbled for the barest second, as her toes were still half-curled under.

"Go back to bed."

She turned, but caught his murderous countenance, & slinked silently back to the bed. She pulled her clothes back semi-in place as she went.

She sat on her side of the bed, pulling her knees up as he rose & went to close the windows. He left the drapes open, & stopped by the desk to rummage through one of its commodious drawers.

He ended up depositing a small armful of candles over on the nightstand. He lit four.

The flickering light cast him as an ashen wraith.

He shrugged out of his vintage robe, that had been gaping wide open, anyway. His cock stood at turgid attention, foreskin retracted & shining wet in the candlelight.

She thought of that ancient Egyptian boner-god, & tried not to gigglesnort.

Oh, but he'd make such a lovely hat-rack.

She didn't move when  he sat down on the side of the bed.

"Get up."

She began to argue, only to again be silenced by his look.

She stood before him, & he lifted the hem of the t-shirt to press a soft kiss to her navel, before adding another to the slight swell of her belly. He hooked the tips of his fingers under the thin elastic of her panties, & began pulling them down with agonizing slowness.

He looked up at her when the underwear reached her knees & finished their torturous descent on their own. He slid his soft hands back up her thighs to rest on her hips.

"Where did he cut you?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "I know you let _him_ do it."

He had used a little pen knife, gliding with razor-sharp precision through the very bottom of her jugular at the base of her throat. He had then let the blood run all down her chest, before lapping it up in ecstasy.

Unlike _this_ one, who'd made an absolute unholy mess when he'd finally gotten around to killing her.

And that poor innkeeper... Surely, they'd had to torch that room.

Blood, cum, shit, vomit, everywhere.

Oh, it had started nicely enough... But, when you die, when you _truly_ die, your body eliminates everything.

At least Mary had indoor plumbing.

Cardi _had_ held her hair back. She'd give him that.


	3. I know your soul is not tainted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna get worse before it gets better.

* * *

"Lose the shirt."

She almost told him just what he could do with himself. She pulled the shirt off peevishly, before tossing it in the general direction of his kimono.

He grabbed her wrist, & yanked her down across his lap.

"CO-pea-yuh..." she growled, & it was a warning. He didn't like the assigned name, so she only very rarely used it.

He rubbed her ass with a circular motion, seemingly mesmerized.

"You have been so very bad..." he lamented. "I do hope you realize that this will hurt me more than it does you."

Then, he landed a stinging slap across her ass.

"You miserable little rat bastard!" she exclaimed, struggling against him, but, he somehow held her firmly in place.

"Must you keep misbehaving?" he tsked her. "Just take your punishment."

His cock pressed insistently against her side.

Another hard slap.

Then, another.

And, another.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked, as he kneaded her skin between slaps.

"How dare you? As if I'm that perverse."

"You're oozing on me." she countered, finally managing to push herself up.

He leaned back on his elbows, dick pointing straight up. He watched her with eyes half-lidded.

"Want to go for a ride, pet?" he sneered. "Is that how you did Mary? I know it's your _favorite."_

He was being beyond obnoxious. She slapped him before she could stop herself.

It was the wrong thing to do.

He caught her hand, holding it to his face momentarily, before turning to savagely bite into her wrist. He sank his fangs so deeply that he tore through the thin flesh, down to the delicate bones. Blood coursed freely down her arm.

There is that turn of phrase: 'There's a nice way to do that.'

He had apparently left any niceties behind.

They had been together for centuries. He had bitten, & drunk blood from, every bit of her body where it was possible to do so... As well as a few that she wasn't so sure of. She had never lost so much blood, & so quickly, that she was just this side of blacking out, however.

She swayed woozily, & he grasped her shoulders, before laying her carefully back against the pillows.

Her eyes fluttered closed, & she had the vague notion that he had left the bed, but, she couldn't rouse herself to see what he was up to.

Soon enough, the mattress sagged, heralding his return. She kept her eyes closed, even as she felt him stretch out her wounded arm.

"I am sorry, Dix." there was a pause. "I took it too far."

'Damn right, you did, you contrary little bastard.' she thought, drained in more ways than one. He began to press soft kisses against her damaged wrist. She then felt his tongue, as he lapped meticulously at the blood on her arm.

She finally opened her eyes, & still looked like an escapee from a bad slasher flick.

She reached a hand to the side of his face, fingering the edge of a sideburn. He leaned into her touch, this time, before focusing his attention on her.

"I didn't fuck Mary." she stated. Blast, but she sounded pitiful. "Mary didn't fuck me. You disappeared after the poisoning at the UNO game, & I sought him back out. I thought maybe he knew something. And, I bit him. I never should have turned him."

He considered.

"I believe you." he said finally, going back to licking her arm.

_"This time."_

She went tense as a bowstring, & he looked up at her.

 _"Really,_ Draculina. I count myself fortunate on a regular basis that you never decided to take up card games."

Damn him.

One night, finally consumed with dread & uncertainty over what had happened to him, she conjured the smokey blue-gray guise of a pussycat.

She had always favored cats. The rat was a recent development, as rats were easily concealed within vestments.

He could turn himself into whatever the hell he felt like, he just never did. He really favored creeping mist, & had pulled off a fantastic bat, on occasion. (She couldn't do anything that flew.)

The time he had tried an albino python had been...

Memorable.

But, she had decided upon the inconspicuously colored cat, to cover more ground.

She set out for Mary's cottage on the cathedral grounds.


	4. I can see through the scars inside you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Total Death Metal flashback.  
> (You can't take Dix anywhere...)

It took her a while to get there, but, thankfully, he was in when she arrived.

She got to ask  him what he knew. He claimed to know very little. Naturally, she had no clothes, & the situation deteriorated.

Interestingly, for a ~~gravedigger, resurrectionist,~~ revenant in a little cottage, he had a big brass bed.

With more than one set of handcuffs hanging from the headboard.

She had crawled astride him, (of course) & bitten neatly into his neck. It took real effort for her not to recoil at the taste of his dark, bitter blood.

She was congratulating herself on the acquirement of a new taste, when he wrapped himself around her & began _begging_ for her blood.

She debated. He was such a wretched little thing. She had always hated dragging him along in their wake all the years...

She told him to cut her. He'd found a dainty little pen knife with a pearl handle, & cut just where she'd told him to. Letting the blood drip all the way down to her nipple had been his inspiration.

He'd grinned delightedly, laving the pale pink nub with his tongue, & then working his way all the way back up to her neck.

Despite all her good intentions, she ended up grinding against him, & tangling her fingers in his ragged black hair.

His hand found its way easily between her legs.

He slid his fingers from the back to the front a few times, before settling to worry her clit.

"I want you-" he growled, breath tickling her ear.

She went still. His fingers travelled back, gently probing her opening.

"This is a mistake."

"Let me inside you." he breathed, slowly inserting his middle finger.

She whimpered. All the blood-play, & now his fingering had her dangerously close.

"I'll do anything you want me to-"

"Stop talking."

"My _Mistress."_

That did it.

"Fuck. Still tight, I see." he murmured, as she spasmed around his fingers.

"Shut. Up. Mary." she said, hands now clenched in his old Morbid Angel t-shirt.

He kept his hand in place until he felt her stop working.

"So, you're the plague bringer's exclusive property, now?"

She gave him an ugly look.

He was licking his fingers.

"Mary."

"What?" he looked at his hand, then shrugged. "You taste good. Always did."

She didn't have the heart to tell him about his blood.

"Yes, I belong to the Cardinal. This isn't exactly news."

He looked at her, pale green eyes glittering mischievously.

She wondered, not for the first time, just what exactly it was about Mary... He, the three Emerituses, & Cardi all had the same eyes.

Mary had somehow managed to escape the blight of the pale eye.

Of course, he also had no status.

She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it.

"Do you remember-"

"Please don't, Mary."

"I found all those black candles for the altar-"

"Mary, _don't._ "

He smiled benignly. He had a lovely, soft mouth, with a little Cupid's bow & everything.

He really was trying her patience.

"He saved me." she said, quietly.

Mary gave her a look.

"He kept you waiting on ice for how many years?"

'Not as many as you.' she thought, but, she just shook her head.


	5. You & I see eye to eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the Present

"You're just this side of broadcasting, love."

Not Mary's voice. Well, not quite. Different.

Sweet, fancy Lucifer, but she was out of it.

Copia was staring down at her with an intensity that would have made the devil proud.

She felt like a hot dog on a gas station rotisserie.

"Have I grown horns, or something?" she croaked.

And, there... a subtle brush against the cobwebby edges of her mind.

_He'd been in her head!_

He smirked.

"Not quite yet. What shall I do with you, Goldilocks? You seem to be at least a quart low."

"Bury me not on the lone prairie." she mumbled, eyes slipping back shut.

She could _not_ deal with this right now.

She vaguely registered movement on the mattress, again; then, some soft rustling; then, a muttered,

"Aaah... _fuck._ "

She felt his thumb gently pressing down on her bottom lip, & the next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers, with a mouthful of blood pouring into her own.

She tangled her fingers into his hair.

He was _almost_ as old as sin. The big rumor held that The Plague had killed him the first time.

Yeah. _That_ plague.

But, it wasn't quite so... It did strike down his mortal wife; which earned he & their daughter, both also gravely ill, a ride on the same death-cart.

They all ended up in a vast heap in the local churchyard. He only barely survived, riddled with black sores, & covered in scars that took centuries to fade.

He still looked rather... deathly when he found her, years later.

He still suffered from night terrors, was claustrophobic, & would not abide total darkness.

She'd gotten the story after the first couple of encounters with the night terrors.

At some point, he had reconnected with his mother, & they had figured out the weird blood alchemy that was this form of immortality.

Yet... after centuries of disease, then death, & lasting despair, his blood tasted something like mulled wine.

Whereas Mary...

She shuddered.

He pulled back, & she made a little unhappy sound.

"Better?" he asked, slurring a bit. She realized he had cut his tongue.

"A little." she conceded, lisping with her fangs out. She debated asking where he wanted her to bite him next. The bloody kisses were just an aperitif.

"I _am_ sorry." he said softly; all sad panda eyes.

She blinked. Was she supposed to punish him, now? She'd roamed this dark road before...

It was always an interesting diversion.

He was a study in keeping his eyes downcast, suddenly. She followed his gaze, &-

Yeah.

The flesh was certainly willing.

"Where are your knives?"

He blinked, then looked over to where he'd left the pen knife from his tongue on the nightstand.

She needed something more than that.

"Couldn't... you... ahhh-" he crawled over to what was generally his side of the bed.

She looked at him, black light slowly dawning.

"Not tonight, Satan." she said, miffed. "Hell will freeze over, before I ride your cock."

He frowned.

"I said I was sorry."

She looked to her wrist, still marred by bloodless, deep gashes.

"I don't care! Get me a knife."

He actually jumped a bit at that. With a sigh, he leaned over to rifle through the other nightstand drawer.

"What do you want? A big knife?" he paused, suspicious. "What's in your head, woman?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Why not take another peek, evil-eye?" she asked, tapping her temple.

His mouth set into a grim line.

"No, I don't want the big knife... Just something to cut through to a vein, maybe an artery."

His eyes widened.

 _"What_ artery?"

She blushed faintly, & pushed her hair back behind an ear.

"I was thinking along the lines of the femoral-"

"Are you fucking mental?" he'd found a knife, & waved it at her. It was mid-sized, & one that he used quite often. "You wouldn't know what you're doing."

"You do it, then!"

"Maybe I will!"

The two of them glared fiercely at each other, for all of a minute, before devolving into laughter.


	6. Can't you see that you're lost without me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all notice the Cirice lyrics?  
> Yeah.  
> Title can go either way for this one, as they're both hopeless.

She grabbed his shoulder lightly, & pressed him down against the pillows.

She leaned down to kiss him, as he twirled the knife deftly between his fingers. He finally set it down on his belly, before starting to examine the white flesh with clinical interest.

"Leg or abdomen?"

"Abdomen."

He looked up at her.

"Oh, you are just _asking_ for trouble."

She was suddenly possessed by the unholy urge to drag her fingers through the greasy black paint under his eyes.

"Ooh, Alice Cooper eyes." she said, pleased with herself.

He sighed.

"And, here I try to keep myself pretty for you..."

She smirked. He'd always blackened his eyes. His eyes, & his upper lip. She had a feeling he'd long since forgotten _why,_ with the lip... (His eyes still looked horribly bruised without the makeup.)

"All righty, then." he said, apparently making a decision. "Here we go."

He positioned the knife straight down with one hand, grabbed her hand & folded it over his with the other, & sank the blade tip, before pulling back to make a small cut.

She stared, transfixed as the blood began to seep & pool.

"Well, go on." he said, before licking the blade carefully. He kept all of the things razor-sharp.

She set upon the cut, first licking, then sucking at the small wound. She heard him gasp, then vaguely felt him gather her long hair, & coil it around his hand.

He'd made the cut down at the bottom of his groin. His cock was flagrantly hard against her shoulder.

"Don't mind me..." he rasped, addressing the situation with his other hand.

She cut her eyes at him, & he stared back.

His blood was thinning, & she suspected that he was already healing.

"Better, now?" he asked again.

"Better, now." she agreed, reaching down to cradle his balls.

He grunted, holding her hand in place, before reluctantly pulling it away.

She stretched out on her side, he turned to mirror her. He started fingering her earlobe, slid his hand down the side of her neck, spent an inordinate amount of time at her delicate collarbone, & ended up cupping the side of her breast.

"What do you want?"

She raised her eyebrows.

The candles were about to gutter out in their own melted wax. She had also noticed the cassock sash, casually draped around one of the bedposts.

She wondered exactly when he'd decided to abandon _those_ ideas.

She leaned up to kiss him, her hand ending up at the side of his face, thumb worrying the edge of a sideburn, again. She rolled onto her back, managing to pull him with her, & he landed propped on top of her.

He nuzzled her nose, before bombarding her with dainty kisses. She maneuvered to line up appropriate body parts.

"Well, this is all quite vanilla." he chuckled.

She looked at him. She reached down to wrap her hand around him.

"What do I call you?"

His eyes narrowed, unsure where she was going with this.

"You can call me whatever you want to, Dix. You know that."

"Hmm. Let's see... Chaplain?"

That one was ollld; had hardly been used since the Great War.

"Cardinal? Copia?"

He rolled with the "Cardinal" & the recent shortening to "Cardi" just fine... Of course, he hated Copia.

"Father?"

The 'Forgive me father, for I have sinned-' bit always got him harder than a nine-inch spike .

It also made for a nice end-trigger.

Priest-kink, indeed.

He moaned into her shoulder.

_"Master?"_

Ah. The tell-tale twitch.

"Your Eminence?" she purred, feeling the warm pearl of moisture manifest.

"Yes. _Your Eminence._ A title befitting your station." she had been lightly working his shaft. She stopped, & gently guided the head to push against her own swollen clit.

He was making an assortment of interesting noises & muttering in several different languages.

"You want to know what _I_ want?"

He looked at her, vaguely desperate, all smeared grease-paint & rumpled hair.

She tried to smooth it down, before reaching to guide his cock further back to her slick entrance.

She leaned to hiss in his very red ear,

"I'd like you to shut the fuck up, _Your Eminence._ You have said more. than. enough."

Then, she bit & tugged at his earlobe.

This took place in the process of him slowly pushing himself into her... He ended up making a wounded sound that hardly even sounded human.

"Yes... ma'am." he finally managed, somehow looking contrite.

She leaned back happily, pulling her knees up, & revelling in the sorcery that the man could do with his hips.

She caught the glint of one of the mirrors he'd put up under the canopy...

She looked over toward the widows, & realized there was ambient light outside.

"I think the lights are back on."

"Yaaay." he cheered weakly. It was apparently taking the entirety of his focus not to come.

She grinned, sliding her hands over his soft flanks.

"Ahh- would you- ah..."

She blinked at him.

"Would you wrap your legs around me?"

She could do that.

He closed his eyes momentarily.

"Thank you."

And, he barely said anything else, save for the random snatches of foreign gibberish.

She had a delightful, rolling orgasm, her internal jerking finally pulling him over the edge.

He came so hard, his thighs shook.

Rather than collapsing on her, he rolled to his side & pulled her with him, staying connected & pulling her leg around him.

His black grease-paint was everywhere, (except where it had started out).

They lay there for a bit... silent, spent, & happy.

It was going to be daylight, soon. Somebody needed to pull the drapes.

"Heh-heh-heh... That was some damn good vanilla." he said.

She bopped him with a little embroidered pillow.

FIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told y'all it was weird.


End file.
